The Sky Could be Blue
by distracta
Summary: One rainy day, Arthur's bus ride is interrupted. Drabble-y one-shot. Human AU. USUK if you squint.


It's a wonder that I'm only just now writing USUK. I've been stupidly in love with these dorks for years. But here's this thing. It's short and uneventful but that's really all I'm capable of at this point. Rainymood has a way of inspiring things.

Hetalia belongs to Himaruya, Moon over Buffalo belongs to Ken Ludwig, and Coldplay belong to their perfect selves. That is all.

* * *

The rain fell, drops sticking to the public bus window, slowly rolling down. Arthur gazed absentmindedly at the blurred city streets, not focused on anything in particular. His sneakers were soaked all the way through, leaving him shivering. It wasn't a surprise that it was raining today; it had been pouring on and off for the past week. Arthur was getting tired of it, and so were his shoes. The bus rounded the corner as Arthur thought lazily about the empty apartment he would be going home to. His parents worked late on the weekdays and were often not home until hours after Arthur was home from his private school. It was good to be alone like this, he thought. He could curl up with a blanket and a cup of Earl Grey, studying geography while Coldplay were on in the background. That sounded quite nice, actually.

Arthur barely noticed that they'd stopped at the public high school until he heard the loud, boisterous students climb on haphazardly, making too much noise and spraying rain water everywhere. Usually Arthur just rolled his eyes, put his earphones in, and ignored them, but before he had the chance to, one of the public school boys plopped down in the spot next to him carelessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could see the boy staring at him in confusion and concentration. It was making him nervous.

"Moon Over Buffalo!"

Arthur nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise.

"Pardon?"

The boy explained. "You were the stage manager for Moon Over Buffalo at Iron Gate! Arthur, right?"

"Ah, yes." Arthur had volunteered to help with the production of the neighboring school's drama production last year out of boredom. He didn't think anyone would have remembered him.

Now that he was looking at the other boy, Arthur started to remember him too. Tall, blond, and very, very, very American.

"Weren't you-"

"The star of the show and the whole reason the school decided to even put on the play?" He smirked, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. "That would be me, Alfred F. Jones, hero of the drama department and also basically the entire world. I've got that on a business card."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Yes, he remembered him now. The obnoxious boy who questioned the director and ate all the volunteer snacks at rehearsal.

"You go to the private school, right? Sexington", Alfred wiggled his eyebrows.

Arthur huffed in annoyance. "Lexington, yes." The nickname made sense, unfortunately. There hadn't been a school dance in decades and every year the dress code became more strict. It was just sad.

"Right, right," Alfred shook off Arthur's correction.

Arthur waited a bit, seeing if the other boy was still trying to chat him up. But it seemed Alfred had lost interest, so Arthur took out his iPod and put Coldplay on shuffle. Looking out at the street signs they passed, Arthur guessed they were about five minutes from his stop. He held his iPod in his lap and returned to watching the raindrops slide down the bus window. Subconsciously Arthur wondered if Iron Gate would need help with stage management any time soon.

Suddenly the bus had arrived at his stop and Arthur stood up to go. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he got off the bus and walked home. When he reached into the pocket on his shoulder bag to get the apartment key, he felt a small, thick piece of paper that he didn't remember putting there. he pulled it out of the pocket and nearly choked.

ALFRED F. JONES

HERO OF THE DRAMA DEPT. AND ALSO BASICALLY THE ENTIRE WORLD

He was serious.

Below the sloppy handwriting on the makeshift business card was a cell phone number and a smiley face. Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing. He turned the card over.

" Never would've guessed you were into Coldplay. Viva la Vida is forever my jam. We should talk. :) "

Arthur didn't even know what to think. He went into the apartment, made himself a cup of tea, and got out his geography homework, wondering all the while what had possessed the boy to give Arthur his number after chatting with him for five minutes. Arthur didn't know what to think.

So he didn't.

Hours later, Arthur was signed up as assistant manager for the winter showcase, learned two dozen American slang phrases, explained the importance of the oxford comma, gave countless reasons why tea was far better than coffee (to no avail), and had possibly theoretically maybe been asked on a potential date sort of.

The rain stopped just in time for the sunset.


End file.
